“Nah. But I had an aunt,” she murmured, oddly driven to be semi-honest in this far-too-intimate cocoon they’d created inside his car.
“Ah. There’s always an auntie.”
He said it like he knew something she didn’t regarding aunties. Sometimes Sejal felt like she was cosplaying Indian, trying to suss out the shared cultural markers and stereotypes she fit into with other Desis her age but in fact didn’t, because of who and what her family was. “She was great.”
Another pause. He didn’t have a wedding ring. That was good. She’d be really mortified if she, with her strong moral stance on cheating, had kissed a married man.
“Is she also not around?” he asked quietly.
“No. She, um—”How to explain Rhea’s situation?“She passed away not long after my dad. She had a nonprofit, worked in third world countries, bringing them clean water.” All lies, and not just because Rhea was actually currently in Witness Protection. Her father’s sister had been a jewel thief, not a do-gooder. Sejal had discovered that not long after her dad had died. It had been a hard truth to learn, and the reason they’d stopped talking.
“Are you still cold?” Krish reached for the temperature controls.
She realized she’d wrapped her arms around herself, and she forced herself to relax. She touched his hand. “I’m fine.”
He turned so his palm was pressed against hers. It was weird, but nice, how her hand fit right inside his, like they’d done it before.
Krish pulled up to her temporary apartment building, finding a parking spot not far from the entrance. This apartment she’d been renting for the past few months was in an upscale building, two blocks from a subway station. She’d aged out of seedy basement dwellings years ago. A hustler she might be, but Sejal liked her creature comforts. This place was walking distance to a really good coffee shop that didn’t charge extra for oat milk. What more could a girl ask for?
Though she hadn’t seen a car follow them, she scanned the street before looking at her way-too-handsome rescuer. “Thanks for the ride. And for the assist back at the bar, again.”
“Anytime.”
“Be careful, or I’ll take you up on that.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” They were still holding hands. His thumb rubbed over hers. How did he manage to make that innocent move sensual?
She turned toward him. “You sure you want to get tangled up with a woman like me?”
“What kind of woman is that?”
She paused and thought of her heavy baggage. “A mess.”
He released her hand to brush a strand of hair away from her cheek, and let his touch linger. “I love a good mess.”
The words tripped over her already exposed nerve endings. She leaned forward slightly, and his eyes dropped to her lips.
Gut, are you still cool with this one?
His thumb touched her cheek. She turned her head and kissed the rough pad of it and he inhaled. “Would you like to invite me up, Sejal?”
Yes.
He was harmless. This was exactly the distraction she’d wanted. “Do you want to come up?” she blurted out, before she could overthink it.
“I’d like that very much.”
They were silent as they walked to the building. She was supremely conscious of his big body behind her as they took the stairs to her second-floor studio. Not first floor—that was too easy to break into. And not third or fourth, because higher floors were hard to escape from in a pinch.
Sejal keyed into her apartment. It was cold in the room. She’d forgotten to turn the air conditioning off when she left early in the morning. It might be winter in a few months, but she ran hot. Funny enough, though, she had no desire to take off her guardian angel’s sweatshirt. “I might keep your hoodie,” she said to Krish, as she put her keys and phone on the small kitchen table.
“Consider it yours.” His gaze moved around the room. “Nice place.”
Her shoulders lowered, some of her tension leaving her, simply by being in familiar surroundings. “Thanks. I like it.”
“That’s a cool painting.”
She looked over the queen bed at the corporate bland seascape on the wall. Perhaps she should feel some sort of way that he could see her unmade bed, but it only brought a sense of anticipation, like they were counting down the clock to the inevitable.She could imagine his body on top of hers there, thick and meaty, holding her down while he drove inside her—
